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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26910100">I want to feel at home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeltaTrain/pseuds/DeltaTrain'>DeltaTrain</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>RWBY</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Author likes horses, Body Dysphoria, Don't mind me just working through my trans feelings, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, I don't know how T happens, Misgendering, Oscar Pine Needs a Hug, Oscar just wants to be a normal boy, Puberty, Trans!Oscar, Weak ending I mean really, Working Out My Feelings Through Fic, not smut, supportive family</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:09:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,124</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26910100</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeltaTrain/pseuds/DeltaTrain</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Oscar Pine is a regular boy in a small town. The problem is that everyone insists that he's a regular girl. Contains brief mention of estrogen fueled puberty b***sh*t. Oneshot unless I get more hero!trans!feelings to work through.</p><p>Rated Teen and Up for language. CW for misgendering.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I want to feel at home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my first ever fic and basically I just wanted to process through some big!feelings so I could move on to processing other big!feelings. I really relate to Oscar's personality so I chose him as a lens. Farm life heavily inspired by my home and a family that was supportive of my own oddities.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He was always the weird kid. Maybe not when he lived with his parents, but he couldn’t remember that very well. He’d gone to stay with his aunt when he was three years old, so he’d basically lived in this town, Kankyo, his whole life. Everyone knew him almost as well as they knew Aunt Ash. In some ways, the folks who saw him come to town for supplies knew him a little better because they saw him without her protection, without her glares to shield him from their stares and whispers. They’d been nice enough at first. In fact, for most of his life they’d treated him just like anyone else and he’d thought he was just like them.</p><p> </p><p>Then came the changes. He was used to various pains – the growing pains in his hands, in his feet, everywhere. He’d dealt with the deep jaw aches as his wisdom teeth jostled his molars. At five years old he’d caught his finger in the compost roller and broken it, and then at eleven he dropped a maul on his foot. He’d limped around the farm for what seemed like forever in his cast and then his boot, sneaking behind his aunt’s back to climb the hay stacks or make a fort behind the garden tools. It wasn’t easy with only one good foot but he’d done it to prove to himself that he still could. Even if the Grimm came when he was hurt, he thought he could still defend the farm for a little while until help came. The idea of being able to do anything a proper man could do, it was intoxicating. That he could fend off a beowulf was a ludicrous idea – he was strong for his age, but he’d never learned to fight. Daydreaming or not, it was comforting to imagine he could do at least a little. Like hunters and huntresses did, or even the heroes in his comic books!</p><p> </p><p>These new changes were different, though. They hurt in a different way. People in Kankyo started changing how they spoke about him as if he was predestined to fulfill a different role than the one he imagined for himself. He didn’t want to be pretty. He didn’t want to “find himself a boyfriend.” He didn’t like the way the older boys looked at him, at his waist, at his hips. His cheeks burned with an angry blush when he caught them staring at his ass. They just smiled. They didn’t even deny it. Sometimes they shouted things at him, things that they said were compliments but they only made him more ashamed of himself.</p><p> </p><p>That was why he tried to stay on the farm these days. Aunt Ash, at least, let him be himself even if he didn’t know who that was yet.</p><p> </p><p>The sun shone through his window and lit the dust motes up like tiny flames. He was already nearly awake but he couldn’t delay any longer once the sunbeams hit his face. He might have stayed up late reading, but Ash wouldn’t take that as an excuse to sleep in. “It’s your own damn fault, child,” she would say, shaking her head. He loved how her bangs bounced slightly side to side. “There’s work to be done and it won’t do itself.”</p><p> </p><p>Groaning, he pried himself out of bed and sat up. He felt his hair sticking out to all sides. That felt nice. Aunt Ash had just cut it for him last night after dinner. His head felt so free without the long waves wearing him down. A tiny smile quirked one side of his mouth when he looked at it in the mirror and shook his head side to side. Tiny strands brushed the sides of his face like a gentle wind. Grabbing the comb, he clumsily ran it through his hair, hands always expecting more length that wasn’t there anymore. Did people usually use water for this? Whatever. Messy hair was cool.</p><p> </p><p>Freshly dressed and drying his hands on the rag that hung from his pocket, he skipped over to the main house for breakfast. It only had one room so he had moved to the nearest barn when he got old enough but he didn’t mind. Much as he loved her, he didn’t want Aunt Ash to hear him try to sing to the hay bales in his spare time.</p><p> </p><p>Porch plants watered, compost turned, horses fed and sheep let out to pasture, he stopped for a moment to breathe through the pain that lanced through his body like a rake dragged underneath his skin. This one had him doubled over. Damn that stung.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I don’t want this!</em>
  <span> He shouted inside his head. </span>
  <em>I never asked for this. Just leave me alone.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Nausea rose up from his stomach to the back of his throat. It was supposed to be all normal but he knew that part of it was from the disgust he felt at his own body betraying him. <em>Bleeding</em>, he thought. <em>What the hell.</em></p><p> </p><p>“<span>Good morning, Miss </span><span>Rossa</span><span>!”</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Fuck.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Good morning, Mrs. Clay! How’s your route today?”</p><p> </p><p>“Just dandy. I’ve got a light load and the weather is just perfect to see the sunflowers. Looks like it’s just the one package today but you’ll need to sign for it. Where’s your aunt today?”</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He signed the paper she offered. By rote his hands traced the name </span>
  <span>Rossa </span>
  <span>Pine in black ink </span>
  <span>with the cheap pen</span>
  <span>. </span>
  <span>The package went next to the front door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>“Aunt Ash is moving the sprinklers on the melons. We’ve had a dry patch and some of the plants are trying to wilt.”</p><p> </p><p>“Tell her to not work too hard! It’s just the two of you girls out here. Say, what’s with the hair?”</p><p> </p><p>He hesitated. After all the chores, he’d forgotten that he looked different from what Brevia Clay usually saw.</p><p> </p><p>“I just thought I might try something a little different, you know?” He knew that his smile, meant as light and dismissive, wavered a little as his nerves fluttered. He watched her face as she raised an eyebrow disapprovingly.</p><p> </p><p>“If you say so. Maybe the girls in Mistral wear their hair short like that, but you won’t get a boy with hair like that.”</p><p> </p><p>“<span>I suppose I’ll just have to take my chances!” He said breezily. </span><em>Please leave me </em><em>alone</em><em>. </em><em>Just go.</em></p><p> </p><p>“<span>Alright, but remember that I want to meet your babies someday. See you next week!” She waved as she walked back to her mail-laden motorbike. He waved her off and watched carefully until she was out of sight. A deep sigh escaped him as he leaned heavily on the fence. His face fell into one gloved hand. If anyone had driven by on the road, he would have looked lost in thought. His free arm drew tightly across his chest, squeezing.</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rough lips grabbed at his hair and made a pop-pop-pop sound as their owner tried to grab a bit to taste. He waved the</span>
  <span>m</span>
  <span> off gently before scratching the center of </span>
  <span>a large and fuzzy</span>
  <span> forehead. The horse leaned into his touch and bobbed his head in happiness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>“<span>Hey, Ochre. My hair isn’t a snack. </span><span>You’ll get goobers in it.</span><span>” He wiped the tears off his face </span><span>with his free hand</span><span>. “You don’t care what my name is. Oscar is just as good as </span><span>Rossa</span><span> as far as you’re concerned.” </span><span>Ochre</span><span> blew air in his face through h</span><span>uge, dirty</span><span> nostrils. He smelled like hay and trough water. A few drops shone on his whiskers for a moment before they were rubbed onto Oscar’s cheek.</span></p><p> </p><p>“<span>You two having fun slacking off?” Ash Pine parked the tractor she was driving before sauntering their way. “What do you want to do for lunch? We’ve got a couple </span><span>late</span> <span>squa</span><span>...oh. What happened?” O</span><span>scar rubbed at his reddened eyes, trying to fix them but only making it worse. </span><span>The hand he’d used to scratch Ochre’s forehead rubbed a bit of dirt onto his cheek.</span></p><p> </p><p>“It’s nothing. Mrs. Clay stopped by. There’s something by the door for you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Like hell. It doesn’t look like nothing. What did she say to you?”</p><p> </p><p>“<span>I swear, it’s nothing. I shouldn’t even </span><span>let it bother me</span><span>.”</span></p><p> </p><p>“Cut it out. I know I raised you better than this macho, boys-don’t-cry bullshit. Did she call you the wrong name again?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not this time but I had to sign for a package and I didn’t want extra questions. Plus she said some other stuff about boyfriends and babies. Whatever. I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, Oz.” Her face softened and she pulled him into a hug. He reached her chin, just barely. “You’re getting so tall. You’ll outgrow me before I know it and be off to seek your fortune. Is that what the kids do these days? Seek their fortunes?” He gently shoved her with his shoulder before allowing himself a soft giggle.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, sure. Let’s say that. And you know I probably won’t ever get taller than you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, well, whatever the kids are doing, you’ll be doing that. And you don’t know how tall you’ll get. My brother was a big man.”<br/>
<br/>
“And mom never passed five feet tall. We’ve been over this. I’ll probably take after her. Just my luck.”</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, mister.” She lightly patted his back and broke the hug. He found her gray eyes looking straight into his own. “You know what you’re doing? You’re arguing. And moping. Quit it.” He nodded slowly, sullenly.</p><p> </p><p>“<span>I know you’ve been slacking, but I’ve been working all day. I’m starving. Let’s get some lunch.” She patted his shoulder as she passed, picking up the package and moving inside.</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lunch passed easily between the two of them. Oscar grabbed an extra carrot for Ochre before they all went into the pot for dinner. </span>
  <span>The shaggy gelding deserved it for helping him out, even if there was a bit of extra muck mixed in. </span>
  <span>As they were cleaning up, Ash bumped her hip against his playfully. </span>
  <span>He yelped as it pushed him over a little.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>“Hey. Mopey. I’ve got something that might cheer you up. Do you remember what the doctor said a couple weeks ago?”</p><p> </p><p>His eyes got wide, daring to hope.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s here.”</p><p> </p><p>“No way!” He shouted, but she was already cutting open the box.</p><p> </p><p>“<span>Yes way! Shipping from Atlas is spendy </span><span>and slow these days </span><span>but it’s worth it </span><span>for you</span><span>.” Gently she pulled </span><span>a bag of</span><span> syringe</span><span>s</span><span> out of the box. He nearly shook, this time with excitement. An end to this self-hatred might finally be at hand. </span><em>It’s never that easy</em><em> you know.</em> <span>H</span><span>e </span><span>processed the </span><span>thought with a sinking feeling. </span><em>Shut up, I’ll enjoy taking the right step at least. Why am I arguing with myself? </em><em>He lightly shook his head, feeling his short hair wobble around. </em><em>I definitely like that.</em> <em>Focus!</em></p><p> </p><p>“Let’s do the first one right now!”</p><p> </p><p>“<span>Hold it, Bucko!” I’ve never had to give a person a shot before and you don’t want me doing it like I would for a horse or </span><span>sheep</span><span>. Let me read the information first and make sure we don’t do it wrong. </span><span>With the comms down I haven’t been able to do research before the package inserts got here.</span></p><p> </p><p>“<span>Okay, fine. When?”</span></p><p> </p><p>“Give me until tomorrow. I need to get this right for my little boy.” He glared at her for a moment, then brightened.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll hold you to that!” He called over his shoulder as he left the house. “I’ll go with you to help with the grapes but I need to change first.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t take too long!” He was already gone, but she knew that he wouldn’t dawdle.</p><p> </p><p><span>He stopped at the mirror and sink to make sure he’d washed off the horse goobers</span><span>. He </span><span>sometimes avoided</span><span> mirror</span><span>s</span><span>, </span><span>since he couldn’t avoid seeing the things he didn’t want.</span> <span>L</span><span>ooking at his face, </span><span>h</span><span>is body, </span><span>wishing to see something different. This time he was</span> <span>w</span><span>ondering how he would look once his body started to agree with who he knew himself to be. Wondering if he would ever have a day where he enjoyed his appearance again. He smiled, satisfied. He’d be who he wanted to be, not what anyone else said he should be. </span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>H</span>
  <span>e moved closer. When would he get to shave?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wait. Something wasn’t right.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Hello</em>. <em>My name is Professor Ozpin.</em>” A clipped, confident voice came out of nowhere, like someone had spoken directly into his ear. He shrieked (in a manly way of course), stepped back, tripped over his oversized boots, and fell backward with a thud.</p><p> </p><p>“What the hell?” He paused for a moment. “No, seriously. What the hell!?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Note: Kankyo (閑居) in this case is taken to mean "secluded life" according to an inexpert Google search, so really don't put any stock into that translation. Basically Oscar lives in an isolated town. It can also mean "downtown," for what that's worth.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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